


Who I Want To Be

by mkhockeygurl



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU parentlock, BAMF Molly, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Maybe - Freeform, Parentlock, Sherlock Being an Idiot, Sherlock Has Secrets, Sherlock Holmes Returns after Reichenbach, Sherlock has aspergers, Sherlock is a Mess, Sherlock learns how to be a father, Swearing, i blame my over reactive imagination for this fic, if it happens ill change rating, love deep ass love, molly is a good mother, no concrete promises, oh yeah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:36:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6144769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mkhockeygurl/pseuds/mkhockeygurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly had always trusted Sherlock. When he asked her to fake his death she trusted. When he used her flat as a bolt hole she trusted. But as she lays with the cold damp earth suffocating her in its depths, she starts to doubt, to give up hope. Will he ever come? Can he find her before it was too late? Will she make it out alive? She gasps for air, willing the oxygen to flow to the life inside her. Overcome by an unconscious oblivion she whispers, "I'm sorry."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm Surprised You Haven't Deduced This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there this is my first fanfic and I kind of dropped it about half a year ago and today I decided I wanted to finish it. So, I started it on fanfiction.net but decided to start uploading chapters on here as well. I hope you enjoy it and I will be updating regularly (which for me means sporadically ;p ). I do not own most of the characters they are Conan Doyle and Mofftis' amazing creations! :D 
> 
> There will be some bits of French in this chapter so I'll translate them in the end notes.
> 
> Oh yeah it's betad but if there are mistakes its all my fault. I like to play around with stuff after I get it back from my beta.

**Prologue**

The full moon emits light over a constellation mobile embellishing the wall with shadows of planets and stars. It's enchanting vibe surrounds a young mother as she croons softly to her baby. The baby fusses as it tries to fight the sleep that's inevitable, but eventually it drifts away. The mother smiles, pressing a soft kiss to the baby's head and places it gently into the crib. She sighs as she looks down at the perfection before her. She could have never wished for anything better. Tears threaten to fall as she thinks, ' _Blast those stupid hormones_.' She turns to leave the room and glances wistfully at the constellations spinning in lazy circles above the crib. The past is the past, she can't dwell on it, the future is all she has left.

* * *

The fluorescent lights cast a pale glow on the nearly empty hallway. Sherlock walked down it with a sense of purpose and perhaps even excitement. As he strides by offices, heads poked out with curiosity and amazement. Whispering began to echo off the walls but he paid them no heed as he continued toward his goal.

Sherlock pushed through the doors of the morgue and scanned the lab. It appeared empty so he grabbed a stool and turned a microscope on. He'd created several slides at home but with John not living at the flat anymore, 221B was utterly boring. Analyzing the slides in the morgue was more exciting for some reason.

Molly heard the doors open but paid no mind. Lestrade had phoned earlier and mentioned that they would be bringing in victims of a double homicide. She finished her report on John Doe #2 and grabbed her cuppa, ' _Ugh it's cold again. Well time for a new one._ ' Molly got up and checked her mobile for any new messages as she walked out of her office and into the lab of the morgue. She was almost through the doors when she realized she wasn't alone. She paused and turned her head. Her face registered shock, and joy, and so many emotions that not even Sherlock could say how she was feeling.

Sherlock didn't even turn as he said, "I see you've started using highlights since I last saw you. Don't, it makes you look drab."

Molly gaped at him for what seemed like a lifetime before she gained her composure and whispered, "I thought you died."

"Well obviously not." Sherlock looked at her and continued, "I've been disbanding Moriarty's Network for three of the past four years, and the final year I had to check up on my homeless network and reintegrate myself into society. Only Mycroft was to know of my where-a-bouts."

Molly gritted her teeth and practically screamed, "Why, Sherlock? Why? You disappeared in the middle of the night and expected me to just accept it?" She continued her rant waving her hands in his face, "I waited and waited, hoping that you would come walking in here like you own the place. Not one word! NOT ONE WORD! How could you? I gave up, I stopped hoping, and I moved on. And now you think you can come waltzing in here like it was only yesterday that you left. Well let me tell you…" She was interrupted by a commotion behind the morgue doors.

"Miss, you can't go in there! Hey stop hitting me, are you daft?"

A high pitched child's voice exclaimed "Let me in I want to see my-!"

A voice with a French accent rose above the others expelling curses that would make a sailor embarrassed. "You let me through salaud! Cette petite fille est têtue comme une mule*.

Molly's anger was replaced with shock and recognition as a plump French lady tumbled through the doors while attacking the hospitals security guard with her hand bag. The poor man looked like he'd rather be sitting back in his chair drinking his earl grey.

Sherlock watched in amusement as Molly stormed towards them yelling, "Ms. Agard, leave Tim alone. What are you doing here? Where is…"

A movement by the door caught his eye. A small head covered in dark brown curls peeked around the door. Sherlock squinted as he tried to place the face but before he could match it to those stored in his mind palace the child disappeared.

Molly managed to calm Ms. Agard down and explained to Tim that she had everything under control and dismissed him. Tim went through the doors creating a big birth between him and the curly haired kid. Obviously Ms. Agard hadn't been the only attacker. The child glared menacingly at Tim, making him scuttle away like a scared crab. The child stayed by the door so Sherlock turned back to Molly and the distraught French lady.

"Lucille, please explain what exactly is going on?"

"I can't do it anymore. Votre fille** is crazy, and she's not a normal child. I told you if she mentioned mon poids*** or my outfits one more time I would hand in my resignation. Well, this is me handing in my resignation! A young child should not be telling a grown woman what to wear; it's unacceptable." Ms. Agard handed Molly the documents that officially broke her contract and stormed out of the morgue before Molly could utter a word.

An awkward silence settled over the room and it was then that the child called out, "Mummy, can I stay with you until your done work?"

Molly spun around, and for the second time that day she found herself with her mouth wide open and speechless.

Sherlock chose that moment to break the silence, "So, Molly, I see you've not only coloured your hair when I was gone but also managed to keep yourself busy." He smirked and gave her a wink.

Molly gave him an undecipherable look and said in a cross voice, "Alex honey, please go in my office and wait till I call you."

"But, mummy, I didn't do anything wrong. Lucille was stupid and her idea of games were so boring!" Then, as if noticing Sherlock for the first time, the child points and asks, "Who are you?"

Sherlock replied, "Sherlock Holmes."

Before Alex could ask more, Molly reiterated, "Alex Taylor Hooper, I said go!"

Sherlock noticed that Molly appeared to be more composed of herself, and more confident not the fumbling enamored doctor she was four years ago.

Alex left them, dragging what appeared to be a blanky, and went into Molly's office slamming the door for good measure.

"No father?" Sherlock tilted his head and tried to deduce her. "You weren't dating anyone when I left. Hmm that Bob fellow kept asking you out for coffee though. Oh please tell me it's not him, he was such a moron. Having his child would signify the end of the world."

Molly's flaming eyes dared him to keep up his rude deductions, so he went on.

"Aha, I know! A one night stand! You were always such a romantic, but something happened making you change your opinion on the matter. One night stand; quick, easy, no questions asked, and no expectations." He quirked his brows at her and asked, "I'm right, am I not?"

Molly shook her head sadly, "Sherlock, I am absolutely and utterly infuriated with you right now! I hope this answers your absolutely horrid deduction. After all you have the right to know."

"Know what?" he asked her, actually looking confused.

"I'm surprised you haven't deduced this." She chuckled sadly. "Alex is short for Alexandra…"

"Oh well that's not something worth deducing," he interrupted.

"It is worth deducing when she's your daughter."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm what will his reaction be? Stay with me to see if Sherlock can handle the responsibilities of a parent. 
> 
> Please do review I would love feedback on what's good/not good, stuff like that. Thnx! :D 
> 
> So the translation is (thank you to Lilly for pointing out the mistake, its edited now):
> 
> *You let me through abruti! Cette petite fille est têtue comme une mule: You let me through you bastard! This girl is as stubborn as a mule.
> 
> **votre fille: your daughter
> 
> ***mon poids: my weight


	2. Brother Mine to the Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock deals with a new development in his life and the reason behind his madness is uncovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Thanks for the reviews/subscribes/bookmarks/kudos. It’s super encouraging. So Writingwife83 was my beta when I started this but I changed stuff since then so I got my sister to beta for me. I said I would upload this last week but thanks to my sisters procrastination I’m doing it now. :P Enjoy!

Sherlock smirked, "I'm sorry, what did you say? Why the bloody hell would you call your child by a boy's name?!"

"You, you," Molly sputtered, "You oaf!" She slapped him as hard as she could, putting all her anger and pain into it. "Alex…Alexandra is your daughter."

He heard it this time. A confused look covered his pale face emblazoned with the red mark from Molly's hand. Sherlock dove head first into his mind palace, he sprinted to the door labeled Molly looking in every nook and cranny but there was not a shred of stored information regarding a child, more specifically his child. He stared Molly right in the eyes, "Not possible!"

What Molly didn't notice was that his reply was etched with uncertainty and doubt. As she waited for him to say something else, he spun around and rushed through the morgue doors with his coat billowing behind him.

* * *

 Sherlock hailed a taxi, "221B Baker St." He grabbed his mobile and called the only person that could make sense of what just happened. It was picked up before the second ring.

"Hello brother dear, I was expecting you to call, surprised it wasn't sooner though."

"Oh shut up Mycroft! You knew didn't you? All this time and not a word. Like 'hello again brother and by the way Molly's pregnant', or 'you have a daughter!'"

"Sherlock, Moriarty's network was priority. Telling you would have slowed you down. And didn’t you say yourself that you can't handle children?"

What Sherlock really wanted to tell Mycroft was somewhere deep down he felt something, telling him that he should have been here for Molly, and for his daughter. Was it guilt? If his calculations were correct the child would be almost four years old. Sherlock realized he had no idea what to do next. He never expected to have feelings of sentiment for someone let alone become a father. But if he expressed his true feelings it would be a sign of weakness, so instead he grunted, "Hmm, I guess you're right. Have you-"

"Yes Sherlock I have taken care of them. They are being watched twenty-four seven by security, I have been providing money for child care because Molly's job barely keeps her going, let alone a child. The only problem is the nanny situation. I have only hired the best but Alex seems to have a knack of scaring them away. Does that remind you of anyone?" He paused and was about to continue when Sherlock demanded.

"Stop giving her money!"

"What?! She is my niece and I will not stop supporting her and Molly!"

"No I mean take the money from my savings, stop giving her your money, Alex is…" he almost chocked on the words."…My daughter, I owe Molly at least this much."

"Will do." There was a pause and then Mycroft asked, "How did John react?"

Sherlock replied in a confused tone, "He attacked me like a feral bear. I still have a split lip." The sound of a stifled laugh could be heard across the line. "He's engaged you know. Well of course you would know, you're practically the British government. His fiancé, Mary, she is..." He paused. "She is fantastic and appears to like me. John has finally found someone who is worth my time...Oh and that god awful mustache…"

The stiffed laugh had grown into a full blown guffaw. "Oh bloody hell! Do grow up Mycroft. It's not that funny!"

"Yes Sherlock, yes, it is funny. I'm trying to imagine the scene of John attacking you, brilliant man! Do you know how many times I wish I could do what he did? But of course mummy would throw a fit if she found out. So instead I'm left to clean up the messes you leave behind."

Sherlock frowned, "Harrumph, well Mummy can...Oh shit!"

"Don't worry I informed her you're back in town and yes she knows about Alex. She's known to Alex as her honorary nan. Do inform me when you finally get the balls to explain that her honorary uncle and nan are actually her biological uncle and nan!"

"Oh bugger off! I have more important problems...like John. I can't work without him!"

Mycroft sighed. "He'll come around. He just needs to process everything."

"He'd better hurry because Gavin has given me a case involving a terrorist cell… but you obviously already know about that."

"Who?"

"Gavin, no um Graham, um Gerry...oh blast it! Lestrade?!"

"Oh, you mean Greg."

"Yes of course, get with the program brother!" The taxi arrived at Baker St. Sherlock paid and stepped up to the front door.

"I have to go now Sherlock, apparently the queen's corgi got its head stuck in her toilet, and her secretary has informed me that it's a matter of national security,” he sighed dramatically.  “Those crazy royals."

Sherlock in a moment of weakness gave into a sentimental feeling he couldn't grasp. "Thank you Mycroft…for everything." He ended the call and stomped up the stairs. "Mrs. Hudson I need tea and biscuits, do hurry."

As he walked into his flat a voice yelled up the stairs, "I wasn't your housekeeper four years ago and I'm not your housekeeper now!"

* * *

 That night, sleep had once again failed to come; this time it was because of a little girl. Sherlock laid side-ways in his arm chair. A gun dangled from his hand and whenever the image of Molly and Alexandra threatened to overtake his mind he shot a round into the wall. He wasn’t crazy, it was just how he vented. He eyed his violin but couldn’t conjure enough energy to get up and grab it, ‘ _Damn it_.  _Why did this have to happen?’_  He continued to shoot the wall.

He was not a sociopath. That's what he told people but it wasn’t true. He did it to hide what others believed was a weakness. If people knew about it, they wouldn't treat him the same way. He wouldn't be the world's only consulting detective.

At the age of five Sherlock was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome, which lies under the Autism Spectrum. The doctor told Mrs. Holmes that he had a severe case. Sherlock wouldn't do well in school, he would need to be 'trained' on how to live by himself (if he did ever live by himself), and he would never be able to form true relationships.

Mycroft was and still is, Sherlock's arch nemesis, but also his number one supporter. Of course if you were to ask Sherlock about that he would say it weren't true. But without Mycroft (and John) he would not be here at this moment...without them he would be nothing. It was his brother who gave Sherlock the idea to call himself a sociopath.

* * *

 -29 years ago-

It was a cold night and the whole house was quiet. Mycroft tugged his little brother to the living room and sat him down in front a smoldering fire. "I made a list of general characteristics that people with Asperger's have. I can teach you tricks and I have a plan that will help you." He tried to look Sherlock in the eye but Sherlock just looked down at his hands.

He continued, "1. People with Asperger's have a hard time building friendships and relationships, especially as they grow older. 2. They don't get social rules and don't understand body language. That's why you laugh when people are sad. And when Mummy wants to hug you, just pretend you want to even though you don’t like it. 3. Empathizing with people is very hard for them. 4. They don't like making eye contact." He emphasized the last part, "5. They often excel in subjects or hobbies of interest to them but don't do well in things that don't interest them. 6. They don't know how to express their emotions and will often express their negative emotions by yelling or sulking. You sulk a lot so try to find other ways to express yourself."

Sherlock spoke up for the first time, "Like what?"

"I don't know, go to the archery range or dissect frogs" Mycroft finished off the list, "7. When they want to say something they will say it without a filter even if it hurts someone. They believe what they said is the truth. Like when last week you told Minnie the maid that her hair made her look like a poodle. That might be true, but it's not polite to say it out loud."

Sherlock giggled. "At least I told her how to change it. There's a new hairstyle and if she cuts it..."

"No, Sherlock you just can't. Okay?" A clock chimed in the distance. "We have to get to bed now otherwise mummy will notice in the morning and ask what we've been up to."

"Why can't mummy know that you're helping me?"

"Because I'm not supposed to, that's not what big brother's do."

"Oh." Sherlock was kind of confused but he accepted Mycroft's response. As they climbed up the stairs Sherlock's little voice wafted down, "I think you're wrong, Mycroft. Telling the truth is good; mummy says so. She says we should never tell a lie."

* * *

 Sherlock shoots his last bullet into the wall and sits up and looks straight at the skull on the mantel. His friend. He remembers when Mycroft came home with it when he was ten. He told Sherlock to use it to learn how to look people in the eye. He loved the skull and would talk to it through all hours of the night, and as time passed he began to actually look at the skull. That's when he began looking people in the eye. It filled him with a sense of pride and excitement. He would stare at people intensely, watching their every action. His mother warned him that his staring could be intimidating but it was so much fun! Since then he hadn’t stopped staring and watching people, 'deducing' them as he now called it.

His troubles were momentarily forgotten; pushed aside for tomorrow. Childhood memories assailed him. Surprisingly he soon fell asleep, drifting through happy memories, right there in his chair. For once he wasn’t the one staring. Instead the skull stared as sleep got the better of his trusty companion, Sherlock Holmes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it. Let me know what you think. I love feedback. :)
> 
> Side Note: In the show, Mycroft is the one who gives Sherlock the terror plot case (involving Moran) but thought I'd change it up a bit to fit with my story. 
> 
> I want to mention that I believe Sherlock (in the show) has Asperger's and that he's is not a sociopath. John even mentions it to Lestrade in the episode: The Hounds of Baskerville. The way Sherlock behaves and says stuff is very much along the line of a person with Asperger's and nowhere close to that of a true sociopath. Which means that he does have feelings but he is unable to approach them as we would.


	3. Where Do I Come From?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the 2nd chapter was more informative than anything else, this is on the other hand is a more fluffy chapter. It involves a little heart to heart between Molly and her daughter Alex. (See below for some art of what I think Alex would look like after Molly had managed to collect most of her curls into a bun ;p)

Molly went over the day's events in her head, trying to wrap her brain around what happened.  _Why did he never contact her?_ He was just sitting there looking at his slides as if he hadn't been gone for four years. The worst part was when Alex, _oh that girl infuriated her sometimes_ , decided to scare yet another nanny away and then chose to show up right when she wanted to give Sherlock a piece of her mind. She was finally getting her life in order and had accepted the fact that he was never coming back. He literally came in and tore her well-built life right down the middle.  _Oh what an idiot, a bloody fool that's what he is!_ Well she would show him. Next time she would let him know that he'd better get his act together or she and Alex would have nothing to do with him!

Then Molly remembered what she was doing in the first place so for the moment Sherlock was pushed aside and the report on Lestrade's double murder got finished.

* * *

 

She yawned as she closed her laptop and realized that it was already past eleven.

Molly got ready for bed, slipping into her fuzzy pajamas. She turned on her bed side light, turned the main one off and grabbed her book, settling into her cozy bed.  She had been lost in her book, almost completing the chapter when a little cry caught her attention.

Alex.

It happened at least once a week, she had no idea why. She had gone to many therapists and they all told her the same thing. "Sorry we can't help your daughter."

Molly walked quietly into Alex's bedroom. "Alex sweetheart, are you okay?" She knows Alex wont reply. She was still sleeping and only Molly could wake her from the awful night terrors. Molly carefully shook Alex awake, "How about you sleep with me tonight?" Alex nods sleepily, keeping a death grip on her blanky. As Molly picked her up, she wrapped her small wiry arms around her mother's neck.

That night Molly fell asleep with her daughter snuggled against her chest and hoped that one day she could find a way to make the nightmares all go away.

* * *

 

 _Ah finally a day off_. Molly woke, facing the window, where a mama bird was twittering away at Toby as he watched her baby birds form the window sill. "Toby leave the poor mother alone. You're going to give her a heart attack!" Toby turned at the mention of his name and then jumped off the sill.

Molly turned around to find a pair of piercing blue eyes staring her down. She smiled and attempted to straighten Alex's mop of curls. "Good morning luv, how did you sleep?"

"You already know mummy; I always sleep good when I'm with you." She twirled her blanky around like a lasso and gave Molly a grin that was more gum than teeth (she had lost her three front teeth last week when she tried to eat a spoon. Don't ask).

They both turned and laid on their backs, staring at a once white ceiling, which was now covered in glitter stars that Alex had managed to get up there when one of the nanny's had fallen asleep.

Alex turned serious, "Mummy can I ask you something?

"Hmm depends what it is."

"You have to promise to answer...please promise."

Molly looked at Alex, thinking about it.  _She probably wants to know more about the man from the morgue, Sherlock... I'm surprised she hasn't asked earlier._ "Okay one question and I give you one answer, I promise."

"I don't have a dad, so where did I come from?"

Molly was thrown of balance by that question. She knew Alex would eventually ask about her father but why now? She chose her words carefully, "You do have a dad," Alex's eyes brightened. "But he left before you were born. He didn't know about you."

Alex frowned. "Why can't you tell him? Ask him to come home and be my daddy."

"It's not that simple, he is a very complicated man." Hoping to turn the topic away from her meeting her dad, Molly propositioned, "Why don't I tell you what he's like?" Molly thought about it and decided she would tell Alex partial truths.

"Ok."

"I have to do the wash first then we can sit down with a cuppa and we'll talk."

Alex pouted, "No mummy, right now!"

"Alex," Molly warned her daughter.

Alex glared at the ground but got up. She helped her mother make the bed then she went to make her own bed. They had toast with marmalade and Marmite for breakfast. When Molly went to get the laundry basket from the bathroom, Alex insisted that she could do it all by herself. Molly quirked her brow but didn't disagree. She smiled to herself and thought, p _artial truth number one is that you are just as stubborn as your father...maybe even worse._  Molly was waiting in the laundry room when she heard huffing and puffing sounds coming down the hallway. Alex had the basket in front of her and was pushing it with all the strength she had (which wasn't much considering she was skin and bones). "Do you need a little help dear?"

"No, I...*huff*...am...*puff*...fine. It's easy." Molly laughed as she watched her daughter struggling to push it into the laundry room. She managed to drag the laundry basket to the washing machine. It was quite the scene.

 _Why was it so heavy though?_ Molly's question was answered when she took the lid off the basket and a very angry, plump Toby jumped out. "Aha so I see you've been sleeping in our basket again. Silly cat you."

Alex giggled and waggled her finger, "Sneaky, sneaky kitty."

If cats could glare, then that's what Toby was doing as he turned his back on the mother and daughter and stalked out of the room with his tail in the air. Molly picked Alex up and plopped her down on top of the dryer.

She threw a load in and grabbed the dry clothes off the rack.

"Mummy if I help fold the wash can you tell me about my daddy right now?" She asked really nicely and added a cute smile that always won her mother over. Molly raised her eyebrow then smiled.

 _Victory!_ Alex thought.

"Okay I have a big pile here, so get ready."

Alex looks up expectantly at Molly, barely containing her excitement. She's wrapped her blanky around her neck like a scarf and rested her chin on her hands.  _She looks so much like him when she does that._ Molly thought to herself.

"Your father is a very smart man. You know how you like to watch people and then you can guess stuff about them?" Alex nodded, "He does the same thing but he helps people instead of when you do it and scare the nanny's away." Molly giggles, she never really liked having a nanny anyways.

"I told you the nannies were stupid!" Alex was somewhat relieved that her mom wasn’t too angry and at the same time kept to herself the fact that she had an operation 'get rid of nanny' plan set up from the day she had first been able to start scheming.

Molly chose to ignore the nanny comment and continued. "He has blue eyes and long fingers just like you." She sighed, "One of my favourite things was when he would play the piano. He's brilliant, and he could make me feel so many emotions in one song. I'd be laughing at the beginning and sobbing at the end." Molly tried to think of more things that she could say without giving everything away. "He lives far away in a palace and when he thinks something is important he saves it in a treasure box."

"Like Buckingham palace?"

"Yes, kind of like Buckingham palace."

"A treasure box?"

"Yes, a really big one with cubbies so that he can divide the information up. "

"Okay." Molly could see the gears grinding in her daughter’s mind. "Mummy I have to think about stuff, can I go?" Molly nods in amazement. Should a girl that’s barely four years old be able to contemplate life like her daughter did? She often forgot that Alex had yet to reach the age of four. She often acted like she was much older.

"Yes you can go, but remember you're going to help me fold."

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry." Alex called behind her as she ran off to her room.

* * *

 

That night, after Molly had put Alex to bed, she stood in the door way and watched contentedly as her daughter fell asleep. A streetlight cast a glow along the bottom of her bed and just as Molly turned to leave the room she noticed something shinny. She tip-toed to the bed and knelt down. Reaching underneath she managed to snag the object. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw what it was.

Alex had taken a shoe box and covered it in her glitter star stickers and on it was written T-r-e-s-u-r B-o-k-s. A tear escaped as Molly lifted the lid. She gasped...This was the shoe box that she'd had kept all the newspaper clippings about Sherlock in. Alex couldn't read enough to be able to read the articles, so she must have ignored them when she added her own memories to the box. Alongside the Sherlock articles there was a picture of Molly and Alex when she was only a day old. There was an old robin's egg, a letter from her honorary Nan (Sherlock’s Mum), a drawing of a two big stick figures and a little stick figure in a palace, and of course a little container with glitter stars. Molly's heart broke into pieces and if her daughter wasn't sleeping right there she would have started crying for all that could have been. Instead she remained calm and put the box back under the bed with the articles. It would be a while before Alex could read them so for now they could stay there.

Molly rushed to her room and threw herself onto the bed. She wrapped a pillow around her head to muffle the sounds of her sobs. She'd lost count of how many times she'd cried herself to sleep because of Sherlock, and she realized that this probably wouldn’t be the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think so far. :D 
> 
> Rough idea for number of chapters is less than 20, hehe, basically I have no idea ;p
> 
> Next chapter -> Good ol' Mary Watson intervenes


End file.
